


At The Brink of The End

by LokiNeedsHugs1031



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester Angst, Comfort, Comfort Reading, Comfort/Angst, Dean Winchester Angst, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Destiel Angst, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Episode: s15e01 Back and to the Future, Fix It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s15e01 Back and to the Future, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 00:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21027041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiNeedsHugs1031/pseuds/LokiNeedsHugs1031
Summary: Sam makes Dean talk to Cas after the catastrophe of Jack's death and everything in between.





	At The Brink of The End

**Author's Note:**

> Hola Destiel people! It had been many moons since I've written this couple! New episode left for some angsty stuff! So here ya go a fixit!

They pulled into the bunker garage and Cas left no room for the Impala to come to a complete stop before he barreled out of the car. He slammed the door hard and stomped up the stairs and into the bunker letting the lead heavy door slam even louder.

“Cas, Jesus!” Dean growled, slamming on the breaks that launched his brother forward against the dash.

The demon in the back seat shook his head, “Awkward lover’s quarrel? I’m gonna take a wild guess and say there’s a lot more going on between you two than an apocalypse.”

“Shut up!” both Sam and Dean shouted at once.

Sam ignored the demon anyway, “Will you go talk to him, for the love of all that is NOT Chuck?” Sam snapped, pushing out of the Impala in a similar gruff manner.

They were all exhausted, Dean knew, all of them grief wrought. He wanted to punch something, anything, even if it meant bloodying up his fists. He scrubbed at his face with both hands, wanting only to disappear into the kitchen and finish off a twelve pack. That was if there was anything in the fridge, everything had been a blur since Mom died, nothing had made sense for hours now. He knew his pattern and it was glaringly apparent right now.

As he entered the war room there was no sign of Cas, no flash of beige trenchcoat, not even footsteps, the whole place was quiet.

“I’m gonna double up on protection sigils. I don’t know what will try to get in here but I can’t sleep until I’ve got’em all up,” Sam sighed loudly, plopping down in one of the many empty chairs.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, and huffed, gripping one of said chairs until his knuckles were white.

The ‘what to do’ hung in the air heavy and oppressive.

“Will you just go talk to him!” Sam near shouted and Dean felt himself jumping, “It’s bullshit, this merry go round of bullshit. Just fucking go talk to him or I’m going to go more insane than I already feel.”

“What good is it gonna do? Huh? Kid is dead, Mom is dead, world’s gone to shit, what…”

Sam was out of his chair and pointing a damning finger, “Cas does what WE do, have you not figured that out yet? He thought he was doing what needed to be done, Jack was our son, ALL of our son. He was doing what Dads do, protecting him, it was wrong, I get that, I still get that. I’m sick over Mom but we have to stick together, can’t you see how ‘not okay’ he is?”

Dean refrained from gritting his teeth, clenching his burning eyes shut, “Yeah, yeah, yeah…I get it… I see it. What am I supposed to do? I can’t make it right! I can’t bring Jack back…none of us know how to do that…”

“We tackle one thing at a time and right now you need to talk to Cas, he was more a Father to Jack than either of us. He felt it _so much _deeper than we did. Can you imagine what he’s going through? And feeling responsible for Mom too…Jesus, Dean, Mom was like _his_ Mom he didn’t ever get anything like that before, no dad no mom, and he felt it….when he lost her… he lost a mom too…I think that’s what you’re not seeing. So, cap up your macho bullshit and go talk to him!”

“Fine!” Dean tried his best not to snarl and made his way down the bunker hallway. His own room was dark, empty, same with Sam’s which Cas always seemed to haunt whenever they were ever out of the bunker on a case.

No, that wasn’t right, it was whenever Cas was under the weather, low on grace, everything that he took care of on his own and Dean denied was happening.

He felt a drop in his stomach and approached the room that they had assigned Cas. A half-assed decision in the midst of chaos, he knew that much from memory. It had been such a hasty decision, no real emotion behind it.

He felt like swallowing his tongue as he rose a fist to knock, clenching and unclenching his fist he did just that. Nothing. Then again, “Cas? It’s Dean…I-I think maybe we should talk…”

Once more, nothing.

He hung his head, eyes closed as another wave of exhaustion took hold, “Come on Cas, please?”

The silence spoke louder than words ever could. He knew better, he knew Cas, those days when he’d been so scarred by Rowena’s dog attack spell. The angel, almost human, couldn’t even leave the bunker. He really hoped that this wasn’t one of those times, he didn’t want to admit it but even in his callous snapping of ‘are you okay’ he needed Cas to be okay, he needed it all to be okay so he himself could function.

There was another snarky remark on his tongue, but he opened the door and entered the bedroom anyway, disregarding any formalities, “Cas…” he started but stopped with the sight in front of him.

Cas had stripped out of his trench coat, navy blue overcoat, shoes, and slacks. He was fully under the covers of the unfurnished bed in the unfurnished room, and Dean inwardly scolded himself for allowing it this long, no matter how mad or hurt he was feeling right now. It wasn’t just that, Cas being damn near naked, it was the fact that he wasn’t just beneath the covers, he had a pillow trapped over his head, clenched tightly.

“Cas,” Dean began once more, approaching the bed, it was then he noticed the bed was shaking, and the more it shook the tighter Cas held the pillow. Dean wasn’t even sure if the angel knew he was in the room, but then again that was stupid, of course he had to know.

Tentatively he sat down on the bed, trying his best not to jar the other man, “Are you gonna look at me or are you gonna continue hiding?”

“Go away.” It was muffled, short, and broken, which made it lack in any malice at all. If anything, Cas sounded like some small and lost child.

“Not going anywhere, buddy,” Dean said, inching closer and took a chance at placing a hand on where he believed a shoulder might be.

“Why?” Cas snapped, scooting sideways away from Dean, “I’m not in the mood for any of your lectures on loyalty, or not keeping secrets or what we should do for the better fucking good! I’m tired! I’m so past tired there isn’t even a proper definition!”

For a moment Dean felt speechless but that long-standing grief that had been held at bay by survival began to ink into his pores, his soul, damn, everything, “I know you’re tired Cas, I’m tired too.”

Cas nearly bounced Dean off the bed as he flopped onto his other side facing away from Dean, still clutching the pillow, “I don’t care!” And fuck, no, Cas was on the brink of tears, Dean could hear it leaking from his throat.

“Cas…” Dean tried not to growl, he leaned over and took the pillow in both hands and pulled, “Let go of this!”

“No!” Cas continued to fight, holding on for dear life, “I don’t want you to look at me I need a minute! I haven’t had a moment to stop since…since everything… I can’t! I can’t have you look at me!”

“Yes you can, you need to,” Dean was finally able to snag the offending piece of bedding away, and with such an action Cas was in his face, he was met with red-rimmed, tearing eyes, “You need to talk to me.”  
“Why,” he snapped again, face lined with age and pain, “Why do I need to talk to you? I already told you I can’t listen to any of your lectures! I can’t!” He flopped back down onto the bed.

“I’m not here to lecture Cas,” Dean began slowly, he set the pillow along Cas’s side and shimmied a little closer not leaving Cas any more room to move away unless he wanted to end up on the floor. He wanted to reach over and perhaps stroke Cas’ hair, take his hand, any kind of intimate contact but he stopped, “I guess I’m doing what I’m always doing…making it worse….”

“I thought that was _my_ job,” Cas replied, his eyes locked on the ceiling.

“Both our jobs apparently….” Dean chewed at his bottom lip, “You were just doing what you thought was right. Everything is always so messed up, nothing ever gets sorted out straight. Again, why would it be any other way with us? Why would having a kid make things any different.” it was both the right and wrong thing to say because Cas’ bottom lip disappeared between his teeth and he turned away into the pillow at his cheek. That plummeted Dean’s heart to his stomach, “Cas…Cas no, no, no, that’s not what I meant. Fuck….” he raked both hands through his own hair, then took a chance and turned Cas towards him by his shoulders, “You were being a dad…”

Cas’s face crumpled that much more, “A dad? A horrible dad? A dad wouldn’t have let him die! I promised I would keep him safe and he became everything Kelly feared because I was too afraid to lose him! I should have let him go I should have never turned him into the thing he became! I’m selfish! As you always have said I’m selfish all I do is make things worse, even when I think I’m doing good.”

Dean couldn’t take it anymore, it had been such a long couple days, and he wasn’t even sure he’d processed any of it. Mom, Jack, Chuck. None of it. But he was here with Cas, and despite everything they’d been through, more often than not, Cas made sense and Cas was always there even when Dean failed him.

He threw the sheets and comforter aside making room for himself and laid down beside the angel, pulled him into his arms with a fervency he wasn’t sure even existed. Because this was both giving comfort and self-indulgence. He wholly expected Cas to resist but he didn’t, he somewhat froze, shock was a good word, but that didn’t stop Dean.

“Cas, I hate to break it to you but you’re one of us and that means doing anything and everything for the people you love. Jack being one of them…” he wrangled Cas into a position where Cas was suddenly resting his cheek against his chest. Dean buried his face in Cas’ hair as he prayed for strength for the next string of words that hopefully wouldn’t make everything spiral worse than it already was. “He was all our kid, and us losing him wasn’t all on you, do you get that?”

When he felt reluctance, he gave Cas a shake, “Do you get that Castiel? This was not on you alone. We all wanted Jack with us no matter what the cost, and you know what?”

He could feel Cas swallow, feel the hitching of his chest, “What….”

“We’re gonna get him back, fuck Chuck and his whole fucking story, we’re gonna get our son back and we’re gonna be a family. We’ll try everything we can, got it?”

He was waiting for an answer but then he was only answered with a muffled sob, smooshed against the cloth of his flannel, “Don’t wanna do this alone…” Cas cried, finally falling apart, losing it was more appropriate.

It was everything that was inarticulate, garbled and broken, and that made Dean hold Cas that much closer. He pulled up the comforter around them both, cradling Cas to his chest and ignoring all the alarms in his head of what this might mean. _Our son_. Yes, all of this meant so much more. Cas’s restrained crying almost broke Dean, he’d never heard Cas cry before, and this was the epitome of exhaustion and grief.

Dean found himself speaking that very thing as he stroked up and down the angel’s taut back, he slipped past the stark-white dress shirt, flesh to flesh, and caressed his spine all the way up to the nape of his neck. Cas shuddered and nuzzled closer as the cries came tumbling out of him like a spilled dam. The hunter held on, once and for all vowing never to let go.

“You’re not alone…” Dean closed his eyes and took a breath, pressed lips to Cas’ forehead, once, twice, a third time before resting his cheek to the top of his dark mop, “We’ll get through this together. We always have and we always will, end of the world or not.”

**Author's Note:**

> oh please please please leave me a review! it makes me write more!


End file.
